"Where you been twerp?"

"I went out"

"No shit, I gathered that."

Jim rolled his eyes, ignoring his older brother completely as he made his way upstairs. A hollow feeling had crept into his bones which made his movements slow and his train of thought fast. It wasn't heartbreak, nor did it feel close to any sense of loss, but it was a change that twisted his insides and warped his mind.

"Hey, I'm talking to you." Gillian shouted from the living room, the heavy thud of his footsteps emerging in the hallway to follow after his brother was punctuated. Jim stopped at the foot of the stairs, debating on whether he should run for his life or call for Shawn.

"Can you just leave me alone?" He mutters quietly looking down at the step as his fingers balled against his thigh.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, leave me alone."

The arm came out of nowhere, slamming against his rib cage as another twisted his shoulder until he was pinned back against the wall. Wrist pushing into his throat, Jim glared at his older brother, registering the dull pain which emanated from the back of his head. Gillian's teeth were bared at him, a familiar glint of rage burning in his eyes and Jim just smirked at him.

"What you going to do huh?" Jim rasped, fingers clawing at the arm slowly blocking his airways. His eyes drifted to his brother's balled fist. "Are you going to punch me again? Best to make it all look uniformed and this cheek is looking remarkably pale don't you think?"

Jim snarled, twisting his face to show the fading purple bruise on his cheek. It was still sore but the swelling had gone down the purple now had a trim of yellow. If anyone asked, he said he tripped and fell down the stairs which was a ridiculous excuse but people seemed to buy it.

Gillian tensed at the bait. Jim knew he would, his brother although short tempered and controlling was predicable in every sense of the word. There was movement somewhere else in the hallway and suddenly Gillian's weight vanished. Jim coughed, one hand gingerly touching the reddened skin of his neck.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shawn said scornfully, holding the middle brother by the shoulders and glaring at him. Gillian sneered at him, pushing out of his older brother's grip and disappearing back into the living room. Shawn sighed, arms falling limp at his side as he shifted his gaze to look at Jim.

Jim stared back. He looks at Shawn, Shawn who is tall with long hair and skinny limps. Shawn who fails at dressing himself respectfully and listens to heavy metal and just happens to be the nicest guy anyone will meet. But he's never had a back bone, he's never had any aspiration in his life and he is so easy to walk all over it's embarrassing. Jim hates him sometimes, hates his eldest brother for being the exact opposite to him, and hates him for being a complete hopeless idiot.

"Are you okay?" But when Shawn opens his mouth and acts like the parental unit Jim hardly knows about, Jim cannot find it within himself to hate his eldest brother.

"Just leave me alone." Jim snaps storming up the stairs towards his bedroom. Just as he cannot find it within himself to hate his brother, he cannot find it within him to be kind to him either.

London was and always would be the one place in the world Sebastian wanted to be. Despite everything he said about the capital city being 'not what everyone made it out to be' Sebastian knew that his heart would always belong in the middle of the chaos.

But the rich areas the politician's settled in their town houses were not buzzing, they were fairly quiet with all things considered. The white townhouse was tall and narrow with pillars supporting a balcony above the front door. Green bushes grew in a window box and in large pots in front of the black front door; well at least his father had tried to make some kind of welcoming display when they pulled up into the somewhat empty street.

Sebastian watched as his mother looked upon the house with the same amount of amazement as she had when they first visited the house a few months ago. Leaning his back against the black car, Seb folded his arms and watched disinterestedly as he father wrapped a fat arm around his mother's slender waist and led her up the stone steps towards the door, leaning in towards her and he spoke softly into her ear. Rolling his eyes, Seb took his suitcase from the driver despite the protest against doing so and trudged after them, taking pleasure in the vibrations from the pavements which shot up through his hand. It was all a front, the thing between his parents. They had been all over each other since the airport, presenting the press with the notion of reunited lovers when in reality there was little if any love left between them if there ever had been in the first place.

Inside the house was spacious with a maze of doors and rooms stretching for down narrow corridors. Sebastian stood with his brother at the bottom of the staircase, leaning haphazardly against his suitcase as they waited for permission to leave. Their father ran a strict system and both boys knew not to move a muscle unless told otherwise. Of course no memories were connected to this new house, but Seb couldn't help but remember the time he had been made to stand straight backed against a brick wall and not move, not even when it had started to pour down with rain. He had stayed out there for over an hour, glaring at his father through the glass doors leading into his office where the oversized man was working. He couldn't remember what he had done to deserve the punishment...there had been so many that Sebastian never kept track of the reasons.

"Boys would you like to unpack? There will be plenty of time to catch up with your father later." Their mother finally said, looking over her shoulder as she was led further into the house. They wasted no time, bounding up the stairs up onto a second landing, and whilst Arthur fired up the second staircase onto the third floor, Sebastian wound his way through reception rooms towards the back of the house. The bedroom was bigger than his previous one with bare walls and a window looking out onto the small back garden, basic furnishings scattered around the room and a second door leading into his own bathroom.

Kicking off his shoes, Sebastian flopped back onto his bed, hands folded behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling. There was no point in unpacking, come Monday he would be shipped back to Eton where he would remain until Easter break. He had already requested a short leave to go home for his seventeenth birthday in a few weeks time. However the idea of being locked back up in that school was not a welcome one and Sebastian had not once missed Eton College since leaving at the age of fifteen.

Reaching for his plane bag, Sebastian unzipped and fished around for his phone. He had not expected Jim to text or call him and wasn't surprised when the home screen remain blank, but that didn't mean he couldn't.

'Only been here two hours and I already feel bored out of my head'

Tossing the phone aside after the 'sent' alert had flashed; Seb pulled himself off the bed and went back through the second floor. The main reception room on that floor had the doors opening out onto the small balcony overlooking the street. All Sebastian could see were rows upon rows of black estate cars and neatly potted plants with no indication of any real human life taking place. It was depressing.

Snarling he pocketed his hands and quickly hid himself away in his bedroom, content to stay there unless told otherwise. To his surprise, his phone screen had lit up and a message from Jim spread out across the tiny window.

'Wait until you go back to Eton, it'll be riveting'

'Sarcasm doesn't suit you'

'I bet those tails will suit you though ;)'

"Don't remind me "Seb muttered under his breath, remembering the choking collar and ridiculous black tails to the blazer. Despite Jim's teasing, it made Seb feel more apprehensive and more alone.

The punch to the gut was sharp and made a groan escape from Jim's throat. This was what...the third maybe forth time he had been cornered and beaten up by Carl and his friends. It seemed to have become a new favourite pass time for the three boys and just as the cut on Jim's lower lip had sealed shut it was split open against by a vicious hit to the jaw.

There was little Jim could do to stop the assault, and a part of him didn't really want to stop it. There was something about the wind gushing from his lungs in the aftermath of a kick that made him feel positively alive.

Collapsing to the ground, Jim curled up into a small ball on his side, his cheek pressed into the grass as strands of green clouded his vision. The words Carl was sprouting fell on deafened ears and the second kick to his stomach was only dimly registered. Instead Jim focused on a dandelion growing within the forest of green, its white fuzz of hair sway upon a long green steam ready to shed its pollen. Jim wanted to reach out, brush the top with the pad of his fingers, but before he could do so a gush of wind carried the pollen off into the sky, each white coated dancer twirling in the wind before finding a place to rest. The green steam was left bare and swaying lonely in the breeze.

Suddenly he was laughing. Hysteric bubbles of laugher swelled up from his lungs and popped nosily upon escape his open mouth. Blood that had been dribbling over his lips found the buds of his tongue and the copper taste only made him laugh more. The contraction of muscle made his body ache and burn but there was nothing that could stop the rush of endorphins which filled Jim with such bliss despite the pain he was in.

Carl and his friends stopped, confused by the much smaller boy twisting and laughing as if the whole ordeal was a fantastic joke. Carl shouted at Jim, but whatever he was saying didn't matter anymore. They kicked him again, for nothing more than to get him to stop, and this time Jim did, rolling onto his back and looking up at the three boys towering over him.

"You're fucking messed up." Carl spat, scowling and shaking his head at Jim who smiled toothily up at them. His teeth were stained with blood with pool in the split of his bottom lip and run from his nose.

And then they were gone, leaving Jim to shield his eyes against the sun and stretch out on the long grass of the sports field, not caring if he was skipping lessons again. He found that nowadays he didn't care about much, between beatings from Carl and his cronies and the constant tip-toeing around Gillian, there was no point filling the little time he had left caring for things. Then again he had cared about little in the past...Sebastian had consumed what little feelings he had for other people leaving him with nothing.

Sebastian Moran. Jim knew that in reality, if the Londoner had been here right now, he would have bent over Jim, tended to his wounds and then flipped out in some violent rage against his attackers. But in Jim's head, Sebastian was here, hovering over him on all fours, smiling as he swiped the blood from Jim's lips with his thumb, the pad of said devilish thumb disappearing between that smile.

"You should let me handle it next time." Seb whispered leaning down to kiss Jim's blood rouged lips.

"I can do it by myself" Jim protested not moving under Sebastian's warm weight.

"Blood doesn't suit you"

"Oh but I bet it does suit you."

The daydream vanished abruptly as Jim opened his eyes. Limbs aching he pulled himself up to stand, brushing down his uniform and wiping the crimsons stains from his face with the back of the sleeve. Hatred sizzled in his veins. Hatred towards Sebastian for leaving, hatred towards his brother for being the psychotic protégé and hatred for Carl who tears him from reality only to roughly push him back into it.

Jim knew he could not control all these elements; but there was one element he could control and that would come to an end very soon.

Waiting in one of the many living rooms on the ground floor was not the most exciting experience for Sebastian as he glared at a painting hanging on the wall opposite him. Picasso; Sebastian didn't pretend to understand or appreciate art and he definitely didn't understand or appreciate the mess of colour obscenely hanging parallel to him. Frankly he though his father had better taste.

Turning his attention away from the painting, Seb spotted an old chess set which used to sit in sunroom of the house he grew up in. He could remember sitting with his brother when they were both old enough to understand how to play, being older and more experienced, Seb always used to win resulting in a mild tantrum from his brother and the loss of a few black pawns. Pushing out of the large leather chair, Sebastian walked over to the set, dragging his finger over the top of the black pawns which had replaced the lost ones.

"You're a lot taller now." Sebastian jolted with surprised, turning sharply on his heel to face his father who stood in the doorway. Arthur was in the hallway outside, glancing through the door before disappearing, the youngest Moran had just had his talk with their father and no doubt that had gone swimmingly seeing as Arthur had never been a disappointing child. The same could not be said for Sebastian.

"You're a lot larger now." Sebastian said in return, stepping away from the chess set to flop back down into the leather chair. Augustus Moran was a large man in his late forties with a moustache and balding hair; face a constant shade of pink as he waddled around, speaking prim and proper and everything they had been bred to be.

"And yet your manners have not improved." Augustus sighed exasperated as he lowered himself into the chair opposite his oldest son. Sebastian could faintly hear the sound of Ella Fitzgerald playing from another room and for some reason there was a sense of comfort soothing the unease that lined his limbs.

'Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me, while I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me. '

Relaxing into the sticky leather chair, Sebastian relaxed and every time he closed his eyes he felt more and more at home.

There had to be at least ten cans of puffed up tuna sitting in Jim's attic. There were also a set of Petri dishes growing bacteria from a spoonful of soil in each. All of it had been growing under the correct conditions for a few weeks now and Jim made sure to check on them every day.

Carefully inspecting one of the cans of tuna, Jim could see no sign that the seals had burst open yet, but that time would come very soon considering the rate the bacteria should be growing in these conditions. Jim needed to make sure he captured the bacteria cultures at the right time to make sure it all went to plan.

Clostridium Botulinum otherwise known as Botulinum was a deadly and poisonous bacteria mostly found in soil and improperly preserved canned foods. If said bacteria finds its way into the human system then the effects can be dire...if not deadly. Jim grinned, placing the can back with the rest and reached for the pot of white cream resting besides his knee.

It would only be a matter of time now

"Now Mr Moran, we all hope that your time away has taught you awareness for school rules and behaviour towards others. We do not want a repeat of the conversations we've had in the past do we?"

"No sir." Sebastian replied stiffly as he sat with his house master that Monday morning. The rest of the college would be at breakfast whilst he sat in his uncomfortable school uniform having an equally as uncomfortable conversation. He'd been given his timetable and had chosen he sports he would do this summer as well as arrange lessons for the instrument he played. He hadn't laid a finger on a piano for two years...not that he had ever been very good at it. In fact when it came to arts, Sebastian failed in all areas. He could not draw or act or sing very well and he had been viewed as a lost cause by the masters of Eton. But he excelled at sporting activities and his grades were of a decent standard, even if he was a little rough around the edges.

"We expect you to at least try and get along better with the other students this year, we understand that some people have difficulty making friends but now that we are all a little older it may be easier."

It wasn't that Sebastian hadn't tried to make friends at first, he had but these were just not his kind of people.

"And let me make it clear, if you step a single toe out of line Sebastian Moran we will be directly calling your parents to discuss a punishment and we are both a little too familiar with this process aren't we?"

In answer to the rhetorical question Sebastian couldn't help the small smirk on his lips. There had been multiple times when his parents, mainly his mother, had been called to Eton to discuss punishment. The last time was when Seb had thrown the rowing team's school uniforms in the river as they were getting changed after practise. There had been no real reason; Seb just didn't like the team of boys he trained with. It had resulted in a detention with the house master and then when the weekend approached Sebastian had been ordered home for more scolding from his father.

"Have I made myself perfectly clear Sebastian?" The house master laced his fingers and leaned forwards on the desk. Seb leaned back in his chair.

"Clear as crystal sir"

A/N: Long awaited I know, but as said, I still have to study for my exams so writing hasn't been at the top of my list. I'm not going to pretend that I know much about science, so if any of the research I did on Botulinum is incorrect then I apologize and all I can say is that I did my best.

A quick thank you to everyone, you have been so very supportive over the course of writing this and you keep me going even when I don't feel like doing it anymore. Also thank you to those who have done art for this story, they came as a big surprise and I was overjoyed, unlike Sebastian, I do appreciate good art so thank you again and I look forward to seeing what you artists can produce in the future. Thanks again